


you (no longer) hate your soulmate

by zhuzhubi



Series: oh, i don't shake hands [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sex, Pregnancy, Reid as a dad, but no actual smut, thats it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhuzhubi/pseuds/zhuzhubi
Summary: spencer is actually an amazing soulmate, and you two anticipate your first baby genius(or, reid x reader have a baby)---sequel to my enemies-to-lovers fic "you hate your soulmate"
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: oh, i don't shake hands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827676
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	you (no longer) hate your soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> also on tumblr at zhuzhubii
> 
> i needed to write something fluffy after the angst-fest that was enmity chapter 2

Walking back out into the bullpen to collect your things, hair sex-mussed and shirt buttons popped, both of you are very relieved to find no one else there. You grab your purse, not bothering to neaten up the paperwork that can wait until tomorrow, and bounce on your heels until he’s brought his satchel over his shoulder.

“Your place or mine?” you both ask at the same time (and maybe there’s some merit to the whole “soulmates always being in sync” thing).

You chuckle and a little smile graces his lips, “Well, who lives closer?”

“I do. I usually take the metro, so my morning commute is actually longer than yours. But if we take your car, my place is an estimated seven minutes closer,” he replies, and _of course_ he knows that.

“I don’t know why I ever thought I could hate you, Dr. Reid,” you say as you close your hand around his and start making for the elevators, “you’re adorable when we’re not busy grating on each other’s nerves.”

He laughs, and it sends warmth though your belly as you step into the elevator, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Not so bad?” you question playfully, “I’m the best!”

“I know you are,” he gives you a quick kiss before exiting the elevator. He makes it a few paces away, then turns back and gives you a look and a little wave before turning and running for your car, the challenge obvious.

“Spencer!” you shout with glee as you give chase, reaching the car just after him (you’re in way better shape, but he has those long legs on his side). He pulls you into himself and kisses you, much less tame this time.

“Save it for your apartment,” you say between kisses, and it lights a new fire in his eyes. 

“This is better than I ever imagined,” his voice has dropped back down with newly-lit arousal.

“You imagined this? Naughty boy,” you tease, then lean against him to whisper, “Don’t worry, I did too.”

He practically pushes you into the driver’s seat and speeds around to the passenger’s side to let himself in, “you know, you’re the only one on the team who doesn’t drive to work.”

“Taking the metro is both more economical, and better for the environment. Public transportation saves over 11 million gallons of gasoline per day in the US, as compared to if everyone drove,” he replies, and for the first time you realize you like it when he info-dumps.

He fiddles with the radio, apparently interested in your musical preferences, before switching it to something classical and resting back in his seat, “I love classical music.”

“I used to listen to classical when I was studying. I put it on in the mornings, still, when it’s too early for anything else,” you reply.

He hums contentedly, resting his palm on your thigh in a way that’s more comforting than sexual (and maybe they’re right about the “soulmates instinctively feel comfortable with each other” thing too). 

By the time you make it into his apartment, you realize you’re actually super tired (you did just get back from a case, after all). Spencer seems to have the same idea because he says, “maybe we should just sleep,” as he hangs up his satchel. You lean into him and nod against his chest, loving the way his arms come up to cradle your back.

He gives you a soft kiss and pulls you over to his bedroom, rooting through the drawers and pulling out an old t-shirt for you. You have a pair of pajamas in your go-bag, but sleeping in his shirt sounds like a much better idea. You’re a little bashful changing into it even though he’s already seen you essentially naked, but by the light flush that’s settled across his cheeks he feels the same way, so. You don’t feel too embarrassed. 

He pulls you into bed, and you share a few gentle kisses before he settles his arm around you and closes his eyes, “a few hours ago I was sure I hated you, and now I think I’m falling in love. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” you reply before drifting off, “I feel the same.”

In the morning, you’ll wake up with your head against his chest and think _if this is what falling in love is like, well. I’m not complaining._

…

Walking into the bullpen the next morning is every bit as embarrassing as you knew it would be. By the fact that you and Spencer have arrived together, and that you’re no longer glaring at each other, and that you’re markedly less _on-time_ that the both of you usually are, everyone knows what finally happened last night. 

Morgan is the first to notice the both of you, and you want to wipe the little knowing smirk off his face. “Had fun last night, you two?” he says, to which you reply, “shut up, Morgan.”

He just laughs and gives Reid a literal pat on the back, then turns to you and asks, “so how is pretty boy in bed?”

“Pretty boy” very nearly does a spit-take with his coffee and starts sputtering adorably, a far cry from the confident man he was last night. 

You muster up some smug confidence from somewhere and reply, “who says we did it in bed?” and Spencer actually does a spit-take this time. 

“(y/n)!” he exclaims, his face delightfully red.

Morgan just laughs harder and says, “Wow, I didn’t think pretty boy had it in him,” to which Reid forgets his embarrassment in his haste to defend himself, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Nothing,” he cheekily replies.

Reid is just about to let him have it when the rest of the team - sans Hotch - makes their way over, a crowd of more annoying little knowing smirks.

“So you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses and realized you don’t hate each other,” says Rossi.

“Feel good to relieve all that tension?” asks JJ (although it’s really more of a statement).

“You guys finally got started on baby genius!” exclaims Garcia.

You and Spencer just stand there sputtering and blushing while the rest of the team teases you two, until Hotch emerges from his office and commands, “Get back to work, everyone. And someone clean the coffee off the floor.”

But the uncharacteristic smile on his face betrays his true feelings about you and Reid finally getting together. 

… 

You finally make it out on the long-awaited café date two weeks later, and the scones are fantastic just as promised. The café is this little hipster place with wood decals and mix-matched furniture. There are mini-bookshelves and stacks of books everywhere, and it’s exactly the kind of place you imagine Reid getting coffee when he has extra time on the weekends. 

He settles on a low-sitting plush couch after you’ve gotten your drinks, and pulls you down so you’re practically sitting on his lap. You definitely don’t mind, and give him a peck on the cheek before turning to your milky chai tea latte (you don’t mind coffee, but it’s not your favorite). 

After the café, you two wander around the city, people-watching and popping into random little shops that look interesting. You end up with a cute little owl notebook and some new pens, and he’s bought a few ties with funny patterns. 

It ends with laying on the grass in a park and looking up at the stars - _wow, we’ve been out a long time_ \- as he points out the constellations to you. You trace patterns into the back of his hand, and without thinking you say, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

He replies, “me too,” and you’re not embarrassed at all. 

… 

It’s not until a month after the café date that you begin to feel sick. But the nausea isn’t that bad, and it lasts for most of the day, so it can’t be morning sickness, right? And, yeah, maybe you didn’t get your period this month, but that’s not unusual. You have a stressful job, and it causes you to miss a month here and there. And besides, it was only that first time where you didn’t use protection - _just the once!_

You’re not pregnant - _no way!_ \- and that’s the end of the story. 

…

You manage to push the thought out of your mind for almost an entire month before you finally cave and buy a pregnancy test (three, actually). After buying them, you head back to your own apartment even though you’ve practically moved into Spencer’s at this point. You sit and stare at them for over an hour before finally biting the bullet and taking them. Afterwards, you arrange and rearrange them on the bathroom counter a few times just to have something to do while you wait. Then, you flip them all face down and make yourself drink a coffee before you go back into the bathroom and look.

And, honestly, when they all turn out positive you’re really not surprised. 

…

It’s not as if you and Spencer don’t want to have kids - you’ve actually talked about it already and decided you want two or three, depending on what happens with your jobs in the future. And you’re actually kinda excited to be a mom, but it’s just that, well, it’s really soon!

You’re really not sure how to tell him, so you put it off for a few days. And then a case comes up, and by the time you get around to it you’ve known for nine days already. 

You blurt it out in the middle of post-case sex, when he’s reaching over to grab a condom out of the nightstand.

“I’m already pregnant!”

“Huh?” he says eloquently.

“I - um,” you nervously brush your hands over your still-flat belly, “I’m already pregnant.”

He just leans back over to kiss you and places his hands over yours. He says, “You know, there’s new research to show that conception is significantly more likely when it’s a soul-pair’s first time together, even though there’s no known biological basis for it,” and it’s such a _him_ thing to say that you burst out laughing. 

He buries his face in your neck and breathes out, “we’re having a baby,” with a smile in his voice. 

“It’s not too soon?” you ask, but there’s barely any worry in your voice.

“Not at all,” he replies as you wrap your legs around his waist, “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

…

“Let’s take a look at your baby,” says the ultrasound technician, and it may very well be the most excited you’ve ever been in your life. By the way he’s gripping your hand, you’re sure Spencer agrees.

A little blobby figure appears on the screen as she moves the ultrasound wand over your belly that has just barely started to poke out - _oh my god it looks like a baby!_

“And there they are! I’ll have to take some measurements to be sure, but you look to be about 14 or 15 weeks, does that sound right?” but you and Spencer are just staring in awe at the screen - _that’s our baby!_

He pulls himself together first, “Y-yeah, that sounds right,” he says in barely more than a whisper.

“They look okay, right? Nothing’s wrong?” you worry like an expectant mother does.

She looks back at the screen, “you’ll have to wait for your OB to confirm anything, but from what I can tell the baby looks perfectly normal.”

“Oh good,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and you feel Spencer rubbing circles into your palm, “that’s good.”

And you smile.

… 

“Wow, you guys really didn’t waste any time.”

You roll your eyes. Honestly, it’s the type of reaction you were expecting to announcing your imminent parenthood. 

“Hey, none of that,” Garcia chastises, “Be happy! Oh, I’m so excited! A new BAU baby to spoil, and _ohmygosh_ I saw this adorable little onesie like a month ago that I just couldn’t resist buying, you’ll love it!”

You’d think she’s the one having a baby. And wait, “Why were you shopping for baby clothes?”

“Um, well, I - “ she sputters, “I love looking at cute things, and babies are the ultimate cute things! And I figured, you know, you’d be having a baby genius _someday_ \- “

JJ interrupts her, “I’ve had my suspicions, and I _may_ have let her in on them.”

Reid chokes, “W-we’ve only known for like two weeks! How did you - I mean - what!?”

“I think we’ve already established that _you guys are idiots_ , IQ aside.”

… 

Spencer reads to your bump as much as possible. You have no complaints with this, except to tell him _the classics are great, but you have to read the baby some modern literature too!_

So right now, he’s reading _your_ favorite book to the baby, who - according to the baby books - can now hear your voices.

_“For instance, on planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much - the wheel, New York, wars and so on - whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man - for precisely the same reasons.”*_

…

The first time Spencer feels the baby kick is on the plane coming back from a case. He makes a little excited noise, and his face lights up as he chases the little flutters with his hands. 

JJ looks up from where she’s reading a book and says, “You know, that freaked him out when it was Henry.”

But he’s far from freaked out now, even though maybe he should be. After all his daughter - as you learned just last week - is due in less than 20 weeks. Nonetheless, he giggles with delight and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. 

… 

He hovers, as you’d guessed he would. But, really! He barely lets you do anything at all. Like the other day, for example, when you two were back at the station during a case working on the geographic profile he wouldn’t even let you get up to get a new pen when yours ran out of ink!

Right now, he’s insisting on putting the crib together on his own, even though you’re much better at this type of stuff.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just let me help,” you say with a giggle.

“You might hurt yourself! What if one of the pieces falls on you? What kind of a father would I be if I let that happen? And - “ but you’re not listening anymore, just relishing in the casual way in which he called himself _a father_.

… 

“Spencer, I love you, but you need to tell your daughter to come out already,” you’re grumpy because it’s hot and you’re _huge._

“But she’s not done growing yet! She needs another three-to-four weeks to finish gestating, so I can’t in good conscience tell her to come out just yet,” he replies.

It’s such a _Spencer Reid_ reply that you can’t help but grin, your irritation melting away as he keeps rambling, massaging your feet all the while. 

… 

“Spencer,” you nudge where he sleeps next to you, “Spencer, wake up.”  
  


It’s about 2am, so he’s understandably groggy, pushing your hands away and grumbling when you keep poking him.

“Spencer, I think it’s baby time.”

“Huh!?” that sure gets him up. He’s springing out of bed and grabbing the baby bag from the closet, double checking once again that everything is in there, _“Ohmygod_ , you said ‘baby time,’ right? _Ohmygod_!”

You expected this from him, so you’re not too annoyed. But then, a contraction ripples through you and you grit your teeth, “Spencer, get your butt over here and help me up!”

“Right, right here I come. Okay, ready? One, two, three,” and he pulls you up, bracing you when you hunch over from the pain. 

“My water didn’t break yet and the contractions are still pretty far apart, so I’m gonna take a shower and get dressed before we go, okay?” you phrase it like a question, but it’s really not. 

“Okay, okay. Do you need me to help you in the shower?” he asks because he’s literally an angel.

“Yeah, that would be great,” you agree because you’re a little bit wary of falling in the shower. 

It’s over an hour before you finally leave the apartment (you moved into his a few months ago - it’s both bigger and closer to work than your old one), and just before you walk out the door you turn to him and say, “ _Let’s have a baby_.”

He looks at you with such love and amazement that all of your fears about becoming a mom melt away, if only for a moment.

… 

Many _many_ hours and an epidural later, you’re lying back in a hospital bed with a sleepy baby - _your baby!_ \- lying flush against your bare chest. Spencer’s perched on the side of the bed, rubbing his hand over her back as if she’ll disappear if he stops touching her. 

He brushes over your baby girl’s tiny face and she rouses, curling a tiny hand around his finger. He wiggles it up and down a little, “Hi, baby. I’m your dad.”

“I thought you didn’t shake hands,” you say softly with a warm smile, cupping her itty-bitty body in your palms.

“Rude of you to imply I won’t make exceptions for our daughter,” he replies with a smile just as warm, letting out a soft laugh at you guys’ joke. 

Her words won’t solidify on her arms for a few months yet, but you know they’ll be perfect. Just like yours are.

________

_*a quote from “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” by Douglas Adams, which seems to be sneaking into quite a few of my fics_


End file.
